


Letters to Azkaban

by cailures



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cailures/pseuds/cailures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry writes to Delphi</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to Azkaban

**Author's Note:**

> For #13

POTTER'S TEEN LOVE NEST? THE SECRET PASSION OF THE MAN WHO WAS THE BOY WHO LIVED

"What's this exactly?" Ginny put down the paper on the table.

Harry pushed aside his cup of coffee and picked it up. "Oh, goody," he said, "Rita Skeeter's still getting work."

_Criminals, werewolves, Death Eaters and general crazy people…the cells of Azkaban are usually reserved for the worst of wizarding society. But does star Auror and disappointingly private man Harry Potter have a teenage girlfriend locked up there? Witnesses have seen owls with the Boy Who Lived's distinctive handwriting carrying messages there, to be delivered to one particular cell, where the nubile Delphine Diggory is held on as yet unknown charges. Yes, the young cousin of Cedric Diggory, the boy who Harry allegedly didn't brutally murder as a child during the Triwizard Tournament…_

Harry folded it up, careful to preserve the crossword pages, and set it down away from his plate. "Skeeter being Skeeter," he said. "I'm a bit surprised the Prophet's taken her back on, but –"

"I mean, what's this about you writing to Delphi in prison? That's all Rita, is it, yeah?"

"Er," Harry said, reaching for his coffee, "all Rita, yeah –"

 

***

 

Dear Delphine,

I'm writing to you to try to help you understand why I said the things I said, and talk to you a little about how hard it is to grow up without your parents, and ~~try to help you~~ just check in.

How is the cell? I hope the Dementors are nice. Sirius said he used to pretend to be mad so they'd leave him alone, but I guess you're a step ahead of the game there, ha ha!

Never mind.

Harry Potter

 

***

 

Dear Delphine,

I was worried because I hadn't heard back, but then I realised I can't remember if prisoners are allowed parchment and owls. I'll assume not and just keep writing.

It was very important to me to tell you that you are not shaped by who your parents are. I mean, if they had been good people, that probably would have trickled down to you in some way, because that's how it seemed to work for most people I know, but IT IS NOT TOO LATE FOR YOU TO BE GOOD!! Look at Scorpius. Look where he came from, and he's turned out mostly fine so far.

What I admire about you, Delphine, and what makes me think you can still be a good person, is your great capacity for love. You love your father so much you'd do anything to get him back. This is a strength, not a weakness, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. I think it might be helpful to take that love and hold it close, and put it into a healing place, a place of growth.

Have you ever tried gardening? I don't know what the soil is like in Azkaban but I can ask Professor Longbottom to send me some books, which I can send to you.

Regards,

Harry Potter

 

***

 

Dear Delphine,

Hermione said Rose has found a rare volume of Parseltongue poetry that I thought you might be interested in. I've made a copy for you, although once I took out all the ballads about killing Muggles and the laments over lost blood purity there wasn't very much left. Actually there's only one poem. It's about the moon. I hope you like it.

Best wishes,

Harry Potter

 

***

 

Harry Potter,

No we're not allowed parchment but we can dictate notes. Stop writing to me. I hate you.

DELPHI VOLDEMORT RIDDLE

 

***

 

Hi Delphi,

I don't mind 'the V-word' as Ginny cheekily insists on calling it but I am actually curious about your name. Is it also an anagram? I've been playing with it for a while and all I can work out is

'Redivided, Held Troll Mop'

or

'Derided Dill Hovel Tromp'.

Do you want me to send you some dill seeds? Professor Longbottom and I would be happy to oblige.

Respectfully yours,

The Boy Who Lived ('Bidet Love, Oh Why?')

 

***

 

Dear Delphine,

Many apologies about my last letter. I was going for a sort of jokey uncle thing but in retrospect probably came off a bit of a twat. I just want to communicate that there could be a home for you in the wizarding world with people who could love you – it doesn't have to be this way.

Also, Neville has pointed out that dill seeds can be used in a rudimentary anti-Dementor spell so I'm not allowed to send you any.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Potter

 

***

 

Dear Delphine,

Just to tell you that I've heard you're coming up for parole in six months. Not for long – on a trial basis at first – but as lead Auror on the incident as well as someone personally affected, my testimony will carry a bit of weight, and it would be wonderful to be able to say I've been corresponding with you and you've shown signs that you could be a positive member of wizarding society. I do believe this with all my heart, I firmly do, but without evidence from you…would you be able to write to me and show me any kind of sign, anything on your part that could help you? You could spend the summer with Ginny and me, or Ron and Hermione, or – well, probably not the Malfoys under the circumstances, but you never know.

Please let me know by any means of communication you deem appropriate.

Yours truly,

Harry Potter

Auror, Ministry of Magic

 

***

 

A bird pecked on the window, and Harry looked up and yelped. "Gin! It's a – one of the things!"

"Oh, for goodness' sake." Ginny opened the kitchen window and the pigeon flew in, and deposited a small curl of parchment on the sideboard. She gave it a Knut, and it bopped and flew off again. "Carrier pigeons – that's very Muggle, my dad said, interesting choice…Harry?"

Harry was staring at the parchment, which had unfurled itself. Bright green letters were hovering a foot above it in midair, shimmering and undulating slightly, spelling out:

**FUCK OFF HARRY POTTER**

He said, after a moment, "Well, it's a _very_ good use of the Malachite Charm, you have to admit."


End file.
